Coming Home
by CelticFaerie2
Summary: Chapter 13 now posted! Abby and Carter take a break from the vigil over Luka, just the two of them, if you catch my drift...Just read it you know you want to ;)....please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Coming Home  
  
An ER Fan Fiction story by AbCaLuDa  
  
**Standard disclaimers apply. I'm not involved in the writing or creating of ER, and I'm not making money off this writing. This is my first attempt at fan fiction so I hope I'm setting this up right! Please don't sue me!  
  
This fic picks up where the 5-15-03 season finale ended…It is rated R for suggestive imagery ;)  
  
Coming Home   
  
Chapter 1/? (I have no idea how long this fic will be!)  
  
Later, when Abby woke she sat up disoriented and confused. She sensed that she was not alone, and when she glanced to her right she saw him. Carter. Sitting in the chair, his bare feet propped up on her bed.   
  
She rubbed the haze of sleep out of her eyes and stared at him. He couldn't be real. Even if he had come home from the Congo already, he wouldn't be there, in her bedroom. He would have gone home to his mansion. Right?  
  
She reached a shaking hand out to touch him and found his leg very solid. She didn't even want to know how he had gotten in the apartment, and all the way into her room without her knowing. Scary to think she never heard him.  
  
She swung her feet over the side of the bed and sat there just looking at him, wondering what she should do. She could easily slip past him and into the bathroom, or she could slide into his lap and wake him. She licked her lips at the thought of kissing him.  
  
But no. He had been very clear about how he felt before he left. He had dumped her, plain and simple. And now he was back, and camped out unannounced in her bedroom. What if she had had a guest over? Her anger flared at the thought that he had no right to be there, even while she was glad to see him, relieved to know he was home safe and sound.  
  
Before she really thought about it, she was in his lap and just as fast she found herself on the floor. He was on his feet, his eyes wide and unfocused. Fear surged through her and she cowered from him, instinctively backing herself into the nearest corner.  
  
Carter ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in the front, then he held his hand out to her. "Sorry."  
  
"No. Carter, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"  
  
"You scared me."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry." Abby took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. "I was going to wake you with a kiss."  
  
"You woke me. Now kiss me." He opened his arms to invite her to him. She hesitated a moment then stepped into the circle of his arms. He took a deep breath, which she thought was meant to hide the shudder that passed through him, and then he tilted his head back to look at her. She thought she saw the glistening promise of tears in his eyes, but he closed them as he leaned forward.  
  
His lips felt dry against hers, so she moistened them with her tongue. She slipped her hands under his shirt, to feel the solid warmth of his skin. He seemed to melt into her with a little moan, and she could feel the swell of his manhood pressed against her thigh.  
  
"Carter…"  
  
"Don't talk." He tapped his finger against her mouth then moved the hand to caress her jaw. He backed her toward the bed when he kissed her, and eased her onto the mattress.  
  
She could feel his need coursing through him like a streak of white hot lightning, and some small part of her felt afraid. She swallowed the lump in her throat, set her hands on his chest, and closed her eyes. She meant to push him away, to look him in the eye and make him talk about whatever was on his mind, but when his hand slipped under her shirt to caress her breast, she lost all resistance.  
  
After a moment he stepped back and pulled out of his clothes and eyed her with the look of a wild animal about to attack prey. Again she felt the fear, and again she swallowed it.  
  
He needed her, she could see it in his eyes. She could never reject him. Even after the way he treated her before he went to the Congo to help Luka, her body yielded to him, craved his touch like water to a rose. She needed him as much, if not more, than he needed her.  
  
She sat up and slithered out of her clothes. Her nipples hardened at the sudden chill, and they felt heavy with desire. Usually a slow and gentle lover, Carter wasted no time with foreplay or tenderness. Once they were both naked, he pushed her onto her back and covered his body with hers.  
  
She arched her back to meet him and he thrust into her, claiming her with a deep, steady rhythm.  
  
His release filled her too quickly, and with a dangerous heat. She should have made him stop. Her mind raced with a thousand jumbled thoughts that all lead back to one central idea. She should have made him use a condom.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
I know it's not very long, and maybe other chapters will be longer, but what do you think? Please feedback me. I am excited about sharing this with ER fans…I've never really shared my writing before. It feels weird, but…good! I can't wait to hear what you think so please let me know! And another chapter should be posted soon! 


	2. Chapter 2

Coming Home  
  
An ER Fan Fiction story by AbCaLuDa  
  
**Standard disclaimers apply. Read chapter 1 for more info :)  
  
Coming Home   
  
Chapter 2/? (I have no idea how long this fic will be!)  
  
Morning came, and with it the brightness of the sun through the window. Abby sat up and rubbed her eye. Alone. Again. Or was her night with Carter just a dream? It had seemed so real, had felt too real. But dreams can be trick the mind, Abby knew.   
  
She threw the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. No sign of Carter anywhere, except that her night clothes were scattered on the floor. "Some dream," she muttered to herself. She must have really been into it, to throw her clothes around like that. She retrieved her underwear from the foot of the bed, sweats from the floor at the end of the bed, shirt closer to the headboard.   
  
Her body felt heavy, as it always did the morning after sex. "You have got to get a grip, Lockhart," she sighed. Carter was gone, Carter dumped her and would be happy to never see her again. Except they had to work together, and they would have to see each other. Like she and Luka had to see each other all the time, had to work together, after the break-up.  
  
In the bathroom, Abby rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. When would she learn to date outside of the hospital? Luka ended in disaster, Carter ended in total heartbreak. But her dream proved to her she was far from over Carter, and maybe never would be.   
  
She looked herself in the eye. "Maybe I could transfer to another hospital. Maybe in Boston or Atlanta. Somewhere, anywhere far away from here." She sighed and turned away from her own disheveled image.   
  
She turned the shower on and stepped into the flow. The water felt good, cleansing, almost as if she could wash away the thoughts of Carter. How dare he dump her, abandon her, and assault her in her dreams. She would have to give him a piece of her mind when he came back to work. If he came back to work. The thought crept in uninvited and almost brought her to her knees.  
  
What if the dream was somehow his way of saying goodbye? He was in the Congo. Abby didn't know much about that area of the world, in fact she wasn't even sure where it was on the map. She knew only what Luka had told her, and none of it was good. Too many patients, not enough doctors, almost no supplies, and lots of fighting and turmoil. Dangerous, Luka had said. Risky. Unpredictable.   
  
Dangerous. Risky. Unpredictable. The words tumbled through Abby's head. Carter was hurt, Carter needed her. That's what the dream meant. But there was nothing she could do. She had no way to contact him, or Luka. No way to know where to go or what to do to find him.  
  
Tears filled her eyes and flowed like rain down her cheeks. Somehow she finished her shower and when she turned off the water she smelled bacon. Eric? Cooking? New fear ripped through her and she hurried to get dressed and check on him before he burned the apartment building down.  
  
She flung the bedroom door open and stopped short of yelling at Eric, because it wasn't Eric at the stove. His back was to her, but he turned to smile at her. Her first thought was that he looked older somehow. More like a man, like a man who had seen things that changed the way he looked at the world.  
  
"Mornin'," he said softly.  
  
"Mornin'," she answered and moved toward him. "I thought I dreamed last night."  
  
He shook his head. "If you did, I did."  
  
"You're really here, aren't you?" He nodded and turned back to the bacon and eggs on the stove. She stood behind him, her arms around him, her cheek pressed against his back. He smelled like sweat and his shirt felt damp. "Did you go jogging?"  
  
"You looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake you."  
  
She almost wished he had, so she wouldn't have panicked and acted like a fool. Thank goodness no one knew she cried in the shower because she thought he was hurt. No one would ever have to know about that. He wasn't hurt, he was there, with her, cooking a breakfast that smelled wonderful even mixed with the musky manly smell of him.  
  
She stood next to him until he stepped away to get the plates. "Can I do anything?"  
  
"Just sit down. Let me serve you."   
  
He had just set her plate down when Eric opened his door with an exaggerated sniff. "Smells good." Abby tensed, expecting…she wasn't sure what she expected but she knew Carter wouldn't be thrilled with Eric's appearance. "Oh, hey, Carter."  
  
"Eric." Carter gave Eric a half-nod of acknowledgement. "There's plenty if you want to grab a plate."  
  
Abby felt like she was watching a tennis match, glancing from one to the other of them. Her brother and her lover. She knew one reason, the main reason, Carter dumped her was Eric. Because she had chosen Eric. Because she felt obligated to help Eric, and Eric had been nothing but a burden since he came to town.  
  
But Eric was her brother. And she was obligated to help him. She had to help her. She couldn't turn her back on him. He needed her. She was the only on. Maggie couldn't help him because Maggie was too close to the disease, and because Maggie was Maggie and Maggie could never really help anyone other than herself.  
  
"Nah," Eric shook his head. "I'm already late. I have to go to a meeting."  
  
"Okay." Carter sat down with his plate.   
  
Eric took his coat and keys and left. Abby watched him go and the click of the door closing caused her to blink. "What?"  
  
"I didn't say anything."  
  
"I thought…" Abby looked down at her plate. She had no idea what she thought.   
  
Carter reached across the small table and took her hand. "I'm glad Eric didn't stay. I need to ask you something."  
  
Her mind flashed to the engagement ring she had found in his jacket pocket that night not too long ago. Her stomach fluttered and turned over on itself and she felt like she could throw up. What would she say? What could she say? He had dumped her, he had gone to a poor, depressed and oppressed country. He was back, suddenly, unexpectedly, unannounced. If he asked her to marry him now…she knew what her answer would be. She knew the only answer she could give.   
  
She didn't realize she wasn't looking at him until he caught a finger under her chin and turned her face up to him. His eyes were shining. "Abigail Lockhart, will you marry me?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
How's that for the end of a chapter? Want to know what Abby's answer will be? Feedback me, let me know what you think, and I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. 


	3. Chapter 3

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
**See chapter one for disclaimers and such.   
  
*Please remember to feedback. Love it, hate it, indifference, I really want to know. If you've gotten this far, what's another second or two to say what you're thinking? Feedback inspires a writer like nothing else…So please use the review option and give me your thoughts!  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Abby stared at him, resisting the urge to run. His words tumbled in her mind, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. 'Abigail Lockhart, will you marry me?' The six words she had longed to hear for…for as long as she could remember. It seemed like forever she had been dreaming of this moment.  
  
"Abby?" His voice shook a little, like an adolescent boy.  
  
Abby blinked and shook her head. "I…I want that, Carter. More than anything…"  
  
"But?"  
  
"But no. I have to say no. I can't."  
  
He dropped his eyes, looked down at the table, started picking at something dried on to the surface. She knew she had crushed him, sensed that she had made a terrible mistake. She felt the air change in the room. It seemed somehow thicker, tenser, almost like a fog she couldn't see through.  
  
"I'm sorry, Carter."  
  
He shook his head and stood up. "It's okay. Really. I shouldn't have asked." He took a step back, his eyes glassy, his expression one of a lost soul, wounded, drifting through life without meaning or direction.  
  
She could feel him slipping away from her, from himself. "Carter?"  
  
He put his hand up. "I'm fine. I'm okay. I have to go."  
  
"Carter wait!" She started after him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I just mean…"  
  
He turned back to face her and shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Abby. Nothing matter anyway."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Nothing. It means nothing. I have to go. I'm leaving now. Good bye." She took a step toward him and he stopped, turned to her again. "It's been a rough couple of weeks. I just want to be alone."  
  
She nodded. She wanted to kiss him, hold him, feel his arms around her. But that would never happen. Not now, not after she rejected his proposal. Maybe never again.   
  
She stiffened. "Carter, we should talk about this."  
  
"There's nothing to talk about, Abby."  
  
"Yes there is. I want to marry you, Carter."  
  
He shook his head and pushed his fingers against his eyes. "No you don't. And I don't want to marry you either. I only asked because…because it seemed like the thing to do. I don't even have the ring. It was impulsive. Stupid."  
  
He was protecting himself, she knew. She knew all too well exactly what he was doing.   
  
"I love you, John Carter."  
  
His face changed in an instant, to that innocent little-boy look he could pull off better than anyone Abby had ever known. "I have to go."  
  
"Go where?"  
  
He shrugged. "Anywhere but here."  
  
His words felt like a knife in her heart, and the effect paralyzed her long enough for him to walk away. She pulled herself together with a shuddering breath, but it was too late. He was already gone.  
  
She collapsed against the wall as the tears overcame her once again.   
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Later, when Abby should have been at work, she sat on the bench outside the hospital. She felt as lost and alone as Carter had looked. She had searched all afternoon for Carter, and found no sight of him.   
  
Sitting there on the bench, staring off into space, she wondered if it was all a dream. Maybe she was still dreaming. It was all one big, stupid, crazy dream. Carter was still in the Congo, and Abby was still alone.  
  
No matter what, dream or no, Abby would be alone. She had her chance at forever with Carter and she blew it. Carter didn't want her, and really she couldn't blame him.  
  
She didn't deserve him, and he certainly didn't deserve her. He should find some high class society girl, especially now that his gamma was gone and he had it all. The entire Carter family fortune. John Truman Carter III was a walking money bag. And a good guy to boot.  
  
It wasn't fair.  
  
Abby closed her eyes and a mirage of his face appeared before her. He was smiling, his eyes shining. She opened her eyes to make the image go away.   
  
"Abby?" Susan Lewis approached her. Abby groaned. "What are you doing out here? Weaver has Frank trying to call you every ten minutes."  
  
Abby shrugged and brushed her hair from her face. "I didn't feel like working tonight."  
  
"You better get in there before Weaver finds you."  
  
Abby got to her feet. "Do me a favor. Are you going back in?" Susan nodded. "Don't tell her you saw me. I'm AWOL today."  
  
"Abby…"  
  
Abby turned and walked away. Back to her apartment. Alone. Eric was there, watching TV. Abby barely acknowledged him and slipped into her bedroom. Into the shower where she could cry under the steady stream of warm water.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
I really don't know what is going on with Carter in this fic. He isn't telling me. But it's big. I can tell that much. He's hiding, not so much from me, but from himself and whatever it is he's not telling me. Well, anyway, please be sure to use the review button and let me know what you think of the story thus far! 


	4. Chapter 4

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter Four  
  
She sat in the back corner and ordered a beer. The waitress brought it to her and handed it over with a sympathetic smile. Abby nodded and paid with a five. "Keep the change."  
  
Five dollars for a bottle. Seemed fair enough.  
  
Abby fondled the smooth, brown glass. She held it under her nose and took a deep breath. The bitter smell of it filled her. She felt it swirling down her throat, into her belly. It felt like a winter fire, warm and inviting.   
  
Was it worth it?  
  
She had worked so hard to kick the habit. Could she just throw it away, all the weeks and months of sobriety, all the days and nights of resistance. So what if he was gone. He wasn't the only man out there. The only one she really loved, but that could change. She used to think Richard Lockhart was the one she loved, and look how that turned out.  
  
She took another deep, exaggerated sniff, inhaling the bittersweet scent. She wanted it. Desperately. She knew nothing else that could ease the pain in her heart. Only the drink, the good old fashioned, loyal drink. The one constant in her life.  
  
Lord know he was never a constant. Moody, at times worse than Luka ever thought of being. Not many people saw that side of him, but she did. She had seen the full spectrum of his personality. And he wasn't really all that. There were plenty others out there.   
  
She just had to find them.  
  
In the meantime, what would one little drink hurt? Except she knew it wouldn't be just one little drink. Once she took a sip, the first sip, the booze owned her. She would be a slave to it. And without Carter to help her keep her head up, she would drown in it.  
  
She pushed the bottle to the other side of the table and sunk down in the chair to stare at it.   
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
He took his shoes off and turned his pants up to his knees. He walked along the edge of the water, hoping the steady hum of the waves would lull his mind. He didn't want to think about anything but putting one foot in front of the other. He didn't want to think about the vast emptiness of the lake, or how the murky blackness mirrored his life.  
  
He had his chance, weeks ago, and he blew it. He had the ring, the dinner, the evening planned. He wanted to make her his wife. But in the end he chickened out. The ring stayed tucked away in his pocket, he didn't ask, didn't complete the night.  
  
She had her chances too, things she could have done to show him she loved him. She could have come to him when he reached out to her, instead of going to her brother. He wondered what that kind of obligation felt like. His brotherly memories were so limited, and most involved distracting Mom from the crying after one of Bobby's treatments.  
  
What would Bobby think of him now? The thought made his shiver despite the muggy heat of the evening. He didn't think of Bobby much anymore, only sometimes when he treated cancer victims at the hospital. Even then, his thoughts remained distant, because trying to get too close to Bobby's ghost made him feel worthless and inferior.   
  
Bobby Carter had been dead nearly twenty-five years. His dying wish, his last words to his little brother had been for John to take care of their parents, and make sure they were never sad. John had failed, he knew. He had failed to keep his parents happy, he had failed to keep them together. He had failed to be the son they so desperately needed after Bobby died. He had failed to be the man he promised Bobby he would be.  
  
He wondered what would happen in he turned and started walking into the water. Four, maybe five feet out it would be well above his waist. Maybe over his head. He could sink into it, easy. Just walk right into it. Let it take him, claim him. He knew drowning was a peaceful death, once the desperate fear ceased. The water calmed the mind in its final moments.   
  
But would he see Bobby again? Would he ever be reunited with his brother? Or would he have to face all the patients he had failed to save over the years? There were so many. Too many in the last two weeks alone. So many he could have helped, if only he had the supplies.  
  
But there were no supplies in the Congo. He had had little more than his own bare hands to work with. He didn't even have the language of the people. He had only his passion, his instinctive need to help.  
  
In the end, it had been enough. The brother of a soldier he had failed to save had rewarded his efforts by sparing his life. But the gun had been there, held against his forehead. One slip, a twitch of the trigger finger, and Carter knew he would be left to die in a strange land. He had felt the heat, the fear. He had smelled the death, his death, Luka's death.   
  
Luka. What would happen to Luka if another rebel soldier stuck a gun in his face? He would probably get his head blown off. John Carter took a step into the water, felt the warmth of it reach his calf. Would he see Luka on the other side?  
  
Maybe Lucy would be there, waiting for him. She must hate him. He couldn't save her. He should have been able to save her. She needed him. She was counting on him. And he let her down.   
  
He let everyone down. Every time.   
  
He took another step into the water. Another. Past his knees now. His pants were wet. TO his waist. Lake Michigan would soon claim him. He could taste the relief, the surrender, in his mind.   
  
"Help! Help me! Please! Someone help me!" His head snapped toward the cry. A woman, not far away, on the shore, with a limp child in her arms. Carter found the first few steps back a little difficult against the pull of the water, but he pushed through.   
  
"Help me, please," the woman called to him. "He isn't breathing."  
  
"I'm a doctor." Carter took the child from the woman and lay him in the sand, just barely beyond the reach of the waves. "How long was he under?"  
  
"I don't know. I turned my back. A minute. Maybe two." She looked over her shoulder. Carter looked too. A man, another child.   
  
The boy had no pulse, no heartbeat. "Do you have a cell phone?" She shook her head. His was on his belt loop. He had been chest deep in the water when he responded to her cries. The phone would be useless. "Is that your husband? Tell him to go call 911. Tell them there is a doctor on the scene." The woman squeezed her son's hand before running back to the man and the other child.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	5. Chapter 5

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"You comin' with us, Dr. Carter?" one of the medics asked from the back of the ambulance.  
  
Carter blinked and pushed his fingers against his eyes. "What? Yeah." He took a deep breath, one last look at Lake Michigan, then climbed into the rig. He had probably saved the kid's life, and some part of him wanted to make sure the boy, and his family, would be all right.  
  
The boy's mother reached for his hand. "Thank you, Dr. Carter."  
  
He nodded. "You're welcome."  
  
She looked down at her son. "I only turned my back for a minute. I couldn't see him when turned back around. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."  
  
He squeezed her hand and smiled. "We headed to County?" He knew the answer already, knew County was the closest hospital. The medic nodded. Carter knew his face, but not his name.   
  
"Didn't know you were back. Dr. Lewis said you went to Africa?"  
  
Carter nodded and ran his hand through his hair. "Kovac is still there."  
  
"Must be exciting to see a different part of the world."  
  
Carter shrugged. "I don't really want to talk about it." He closed his eyes, leaned back. Images of his time in the Congo rolled through his head. Emancipated children, lined up like cattle for immunizations. One little boy with a nasty cough. So treatable, preventable, in the states. Deadly in the Congo.   
  
His mind flashed on Luka. Luka dancing with Gillian. Luka sawing a girl's leg off because there was no other option. Luka fading away in the distance as the car drove off, leaving him there with his patients he would not leave.   
  
"Dr. Carter?" the nameless ambulance medic touched his shoulder and he jumped, slamming his head on the roof. "Sorry, Dr. Carter. We're at County."  
  
Carter sat back and rubbed his head. He waited until the doors opened from the outside then jumped out, nearly colliding with Susan Lewis.  
  
"Welcome back, Carter." She managed before throwing herself into the trauma. Carter stepped back to watch, and followed the team into the hospital.   
  
"Frank, have you seen Abby?"  
  
The desk clerk shook his head. "Didn't show up."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She didn't show up. Weaver's furious."  
  
"Thanks." Carter turned and walked out of the ER, into the streets. Walking. Aimlessly. Alone. No where to go. Nothing to do but walk.   
  
* * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
  
She didn't consider herself claustrophobic, but the walls seemed to be closing in on her. Her battle with the bottle was over. She had won. She stood, leaving the still-full bottle and another five dollar bill on the table.  
  
She stumbled out onto the sidewalk and started walking. Aimlessly. Alone. No where to go. Nothing to do but walk. So she walked. One foot in front of the other. Not so hard. And yet terrible hard to keep going.   
  
Why hadn't she just said yes? One simple word, a lifetime of him beside her, ready to fulfill her every desire. She would want for nothing with him. Money, love, passion. Total devotion.   
  
Total devotion. The two words careened full speed through her mind. He would give her everything, anything she could ever want. More than she could ever want.   
  
But she had said no. And for no good reason. Except the didn't think he meant it. He asked because he was upset. Something happened in the Congo, she knew. Something to do with Luka? Another woman? The fighting and devastation there? Poor medical conditions? Something. Something big. Something that affected him more than he knew himself.  
  
He had come to her, wanting and needing. And she had turned him away. Rejected him, stomped on his needs like she always did. He deserved better. He deserved someone who would be there for him, in tune with his needs, in sync with his desires.  
  
Not her. Not plain old alcoholic Abby. Recovering alcoholic, she corrected her thoughts, because she had resisted the bottle. She had stared it in the face, and she had refused the temptation.  
  
But that didn't really change anything. She was still who she was, and far from worthy of John Carter. John Truman Carter III, one of the richest men in America. He came by his money the old fashioned way. He inherited it.   
  
And she had walked away from it. From him. From the greatest thing that ever happened to her.   
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
He was sitting on the steps outside her apartment when she turned the corner. At first she thought it must be one of the neighbors, but she knew it was him. She would know him anywhere. Even in shadows. Even hunched over with his head in his hands.   
  
She felt her heart shatter in a million pieces right there at his feet. "Carter?"  
  
He looked up, his face swollen from crying. Tears streaked his cheeked. He stood, and made no move to wipe his face. He took a deep breath, a failed attempt to get himself under control. His face crumpled and he swayed, falling into her. She caught him against her shoulder and stroked his hair, his back.  
  
"We should go inside, Carter."  
  
He nodded and pulled away from her. "I'm sorry, Abby."  
  
"What are you sorry for? I'm the one who's sorry." She took his hand an lead the way up the stairs, to her door. Eric was asleep on the couch. She gestured at the bedroom, and lead Carter there, closed the door.  
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
Want to know what happens now? Use the review button to let me know what you're thinking. Thanks for reading and a thousand thanks to everyone who has reviewed already! 


	6. Chapter 6

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 6  
  
She closed the bedroom door, turned the lock so Eric wouldn't walk in on them. Not that she expected anything to happen, but if she could get Carter to open up to her, she didn't need her brother to come along and ruin the moment. She and Carter had enough to deal with, without adding Eric to the mix.  
  
He held on to her hand, her fingers caught in his crushing grip. Once the lock clicked into place, she turned to him and tried to smile. "I've been worried about you all day."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left like I did. I don't know…I don't know what got into me."  
  
She eased him toward the bed, and he sat down. She sat beside him, facing him. He reached up with his free hand to push a lock of her hair out of her face. She thought he might lean in and kiss her, but he only looked at her, his eyes searching her face as if he'd ever seen her before. She shivered under his gaze, and when she tried to look away, he caught a finger under her chin and forced her head back up.  
  
He stared at her for a long, tense moment. He caressed the line of her jaw, the outline of her lips. She wondered what was going through his mind, and the depth of his study of her made her feel a little uneasy. His finger traced the swell of her cheeks, the slope of her nose.  
  
"Carter…"  
  
"No. Don't talk." He closed his eyes as his exploration moved to stroke the haphazard arch of her eyebrows. His fingers paused momentarily over her forehead, then on into her hair, combing through it to the ends, and down her back.  
  
She shivered again, and knew if anyone other than Carter were touching her like this she would feel violated and embarrassed.   
  
"You're so beautiful."  
  
"Carter…"  
  
His eyes opened, glistening with new tears. "I just want to hold you. Can I just hold you, Abby?"  
  
She nodded and he slipped her arms around her. He lay back, taking her with him. She could feel his heart beating where her head rested against the main artery in his neck. She found it lulling, and her eyes closed.  
  
He kissed the back of her head. "I thought I was going to die."  
  
Her eyes opened, and she felt herself stiffen in response to his words and the raw emotion in his voice, but she didn't move. She knew better. Knew he needed to work through it himself, and any interference from her would cut him short.  
  
"I thought it was a mistake when I got there. The conditions were terrible. The smell of sickness hung in the air and I should have just turned around and come home. There were so many people, so much sickness, and very little medicine. Luka wasn't even there. He had gone to Matenda for supplies and he wasn't back yet. He should have been back, and he wasn't. I should have come home, but I didn't. I went to help the people, and I tried.   
  
"When Luka came, he brought four wounded rebel soldiers. We had no power in the hospital because of rain. Only a generator. I worked on the most critical patient, his brother was there. Said a bee flew into him and he fell. It wasn't so much a bee, but a bullet. And I couldn't save him. There wasn't time. Maybe he would have died here, I don't know. I think we could have helped him at County. But he died. He wasn't the first patient I lost there, but he was dead."  
  
Carter took a deep breath, and a tense silence filled the room. Abby didn't move, except a slight twitch in her finger on his chest.  
  
"Luka went back to Matenda, there was a clinic there. He had critical patients he couldn't bring back to the hospital in Kisangani. An opportunity came up for me to go to Matenda as well, so I went. I felt like I needed to get away from the hospital. We vaccinated a bunch of kids, Luka and me. And there was fighting in the distance. Luka thought it was about a mile off. That night the fighting came closer and we had to run. The rebels showed up at the clinic the next day. One of the soldiers they meant to kill was under our care. I couldn't understand the words, but their meaning was very clear."  
  
Abby held her breath, waiting for him to continue. She knew he had a blank look in his eyes, the power of memory transporting him back to the war torn Congo.   
  
"The brother was there, the brother of the boy I couldn't save in Kisangani. He fought with another rebel, a very rough looking guy who showed no remorse in his eyes. He would have killed us all. But the brother pleaded for us, for me, because I had tried to save his brother. He said 'hello' to me, and it was all I could do to say 'hi.' I didn't even recognize my own voice. I thought they were going to kill us. Me, Luka, nurses from the hospital, the patients.  
  
"He thanked me, and the walked away. The killed the soldier Luka and I had treated. They didn't just kill him. The executed him. And we could do nothing but watch. I thought they were going to kill us."  
  
"But they didn't, Carter. They didn't." Abby sat up, her hair framing her face as she looked down at him. "You're here. You're home."  
  
Carter closed his eyes. "Luka isn't. We left him there, at the clinic. He refused to leave his patients and insisted they couldn't travel."  
  
She traced the line of his jaw. "He wouldn't want you to worry about him."  
  
He opened his eyes and brought his hand up to his hair. "That doesn't mean I can just turn it off. I'd feel better if I knew he got back to Kisangani."  
  
"Can you call him?"  
  
"The phone lines are unreliable out that far."  
  
"I'm sure he's all right. Luka can…Luka can take care of himself."  
  
Carter sighed. "I hope you're right."  
  
"Of course I'm right."  
  
His eyes closed again and she lay her head on his chest, her arms around him. His fingers went to her hair, gently scratching at her head. She lay awake for a long time thinking about Luka, praying for Luka's safe return to Chicago, or a phone call at least because she knew Carter wouldn't be able to relax until he heard from Luka.  
  
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	7. Chapter 7

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 7  
  
She didn't sleep for a long time, and eventually she gave up on the idea of it at all. His breaths were deep and regular, and she easily slipped out from under his arms. Her feet dragged the familiar path to the bathroom, she went in and closed the door.  
  
She sat on the floor with his knees drawn up to her chest. She couldn't shake the image of him, of them, in the jungles of Africa with rebel soldiers and guns pointed at their heads. He could have been killed! If he hadn't tried to save the brother in Kisangani, they probably would have been killed.  
  
What if the rebels went back to the clinic after Carter left? Luka would get himself killed for sure. He would probably mouth off, and the soldiers would put a bullet in his head just to shut him up.   
  
But, on the other hand, Luka had survived war in his own country, even after the senseless death of his wife and children.   
  
Sometime later, the bathroom door opened. His hair stuck up at the top, jutting out wildly in every direction. She looked up and smiled at him. "You're going back, aren't you?"  
  
He nodded and held his hand out to her. "I have to. I have to know he's all right."  
  
She reached for his hand and let him pull her up. Standing toe to toe with him, she looked into his eyes. "I don't want you to go."  
  
"I know."  
  
"It's not safe."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I need you to stay here with me."  
  
He pushed his fingers against his eyes. "I know." He sighed and brought a hand up to caress her cheek. "Yesterday when I left here, I went for a walk. I just started walking. I went to the lake. Drowning is supposed to be a peaceful death. I wanted to sink into the water. I thought about Bobby and Luka and Lucy and you."  
  
"Carter…"  
  
He shook his head. "I wanted to die, Abby, and it was so easy. I just kept walking out. I could feel Bobby and Lucy near me. They were waiting for me. But then a woman screamed for help and she was carrying a little boy. He was limp and she was frantic and I went back to help her. He wasn't breathing. I gave him CPR and I think he's going to be okay."  
  
She reached up to wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. He brought his hands up to catch her wrists in his fingers. He pulled her knuckles to his lips and kissed them.  
  
"I love you so much, Carter."  
  
He looked into her eyes, his hands on her face. He licked his lips then leaned forward and pressed them to hers. She titled her head back and licked her own lips in anticipation of the kiss.   
  
Her hands went up to his hair, combing through it, trying to smooth it down. His hands slid down her back, and around her waist. He lifted her off her feet and carried her back to the bedroom, to the bed.  
  
His kisses turned more demanding as he pushed her onto her back. His hands caught the bottom of her T-shirt and jerked it over her head. His mouth trailed down her chin, her throat, to her chest. Her back arched, offering herself to him, and he took her with a hunger that threatened to crush both of them.  
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
Later, she lay sleeping in his arms. Images of a far-away African jungle and rebel soldiers with big guns filled her mind. Luka and Carter on their knees, and her beside them, facing the soldiers, and their guns.  
  
Luka glared at the soldiers, and shouted at them in a tangled mess of words she couldn't understand. The soldier whacked him upside the head with the butt of his gun. Luka righted himself and spat at the soldier.  
  
"Luka no!" she screamed.  
  
She felt hands on her, caressing her jaw, stroking he cheek. She jerked her head away from the unwelcome touch.  
  
She dared to look to her left, to Luka. The soldier held his gun against Luka's forehead. Luka had his hands in the air, staring straight at the soldier.  
  
"Luka!"  
  
"Be quiet, Abby," Luka whispered without moving a muscle.  
  
"Luka!" She screamed and lunged up, her hands around her throat.  
  
"Abby?" Carter sat up beside her. She looked at him, then slowly turned her head to look around. Her bedroom. Her apartment in Chicago. Her eyes shifted back to Carter, in the darkness she could only see a dense outline of his face, the curve of his shoulder.  
  
He put his hand out to her, and she jumped involuntarily from his touch.  
  
"Abby?"   
  
"Just hold me, Carter." She scooted close to him and he put his arms around her. They lay back together and he freed one hand to draw circles on her shoulder.  
  
The silence felt like a blanket between them, and she knew she must have called out in her sleep. "I dreamed they were killing him."  
  
"Luka?"  
  
"In the jungle. I could see it so clearly, John. I thought it was real."  
  
His given name sent a shock through him, tingling every nerve in his body, like drinking a hot drink that burned all the way down and settled finally in the pit of his stomach. The nerves twisted in his gut, tumbling over themselves, rolling like thunder gaining strength in the distance.  
  
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	8. Chapter 8

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Morning came too soon. I felt hung-over, even though I hadn't been drinking. My head hurt like hell and my stomach felt queasy. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, and realized I was alone in the bed. I could hear Carter talking softly in the other room.   
  
I get out of the bed, wrap his robe around me, and stand in the open doorway watching him. His back is to me, so he doesn't know I'm there. He's making reservations on a flight to Africa, and he better be getting two tickets.   
  
"We leave at noon," he says softly without looking at me. I close the space between us and put my arms over his shoulder. He leans his head back to look at me and I lean in to kiss him. He pulls me around and onto his lap.  
  
I wrap my arms around his neck. I want to say something like "I'm sure Luka is okay," but I can't bring myself to do it. I've never put much stock in ESP or anything like that, but something is wrong. I can feel it. I can't explain it, but I can't deny it either. I think Carter feels it too.  
  
"Is there anything you need to take care of before we go?"  
  
I shake my head. "Only work. I have to call Weaver."  
  
"I mean legal stuff. Just in case. Do you have a will?"  
  
I doubt I could get a will drawn up in less than two hours, even with a Carter-family lawyer. "Of course."  
  
"Good." His voice is thick. He's scared.   
  
"You don't really want to d this, do you?"  
  
"I have to. I never should have left him."  
  
"I know." I kiss his forehead. "It's going to be okay, Carter."  
  
He nods and tries to smile. He's putting on a brave front for my benefit. I don't have the heart to tell him I can see right through the mask.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
Carter doesn't talk much on the plane. He keeps his eyes closed most of the time, though I know he isn't sleeping. I wonder what he's thinking about. I want to ask, but I don't want to disturb him.   
  
I am exhausted by the time we get to Africa. The last flight had a lot of turbulence and I am more than grateful to get my feet on level ground again.   
  
Carter still isn't in the mood for talking, but he takes my hand and holds it firmly. I feel like he's trying to say I belong to him so no one will bother me. It makes me feel warm inside and it reminds me how much I love him.  
  
I shudder thinking how I almost lost him.  
  
"Are you cold?"  
  
I shake my head. "Just a chill. I'm okay."  
  
He takes off his jacket and puts it over my shoulders. I don't need it, but I smile at him and pull it together at my neck.   
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
The sun should have just come up as we reached the hospital in Kisangani, but it is raining so the sky is a dull grey color. I hope it's not a bad omen, but I feel it. I have been praying most of the trip here that Luka is all right. Please God, let him be alive. As long as he's alive, he's got a chance. Carter will do anything and everything in his power…but this is crazy. We don't know anything. It's just a gut feeling, and gut feelings can be wrong. Please let this feeling be wrong. All wrong. I wouldn't mind if this whole trip was just a waste of time…  
  
Carter has a solid grip on my hand. I know he wishes I hadn't come with him, but at least he was smart enough to know I wasn't going to stay in Chicago alone. He leads me in to the hospital and through the mass of people. So many people. I can smell the sickness and death in the air and I have to swallow hard to keep from throwing up.  
  
"Dr. Carter?" a woman with braided pig tails and an accent calls out. Carter raises his free hand to wave to her. "You went home?"  
  
"Angelique, this is Abby. Abby, Angelique. Is Luka here?"  
  
Angelique's face changes noticeably at Luka's name. She looks down at the floor, rubs her hands together, and looks genuinely uncomfortable. After a few seconds, when Carter says her name again, she looks up. I can't read her expression, but I can tell it's not good.  
  
She takes a deep breath. "Gillian went back for him, at the clinic in Matenda. All the patients in the clinic were dead. Luka had been shot twice."  
  
I suddenly feel very dizzy, and I want to pass out. Only Carter's voice keeps me from sliding to the floor. "Is he dead?"  
  
"He's here. He's alive. Barely. We don't have the supplies, the technology here."  
  
"Take us to him," Carter says. He squeezes my hand. Luka is alive. Hopefully stable. I close my eyes and let Carter lead me.  
  
Luka is in a small confined area blocked off with curtains made a thin material. Looks like mosquito netting. He's pale, but he looks peaceful. There is a woman sitting with him, holding his hand. She looks comfortable there, like she belongs. She looks up when we approach, and she smile slightly seeing Carter.  
  
"Abby, this is Gillian. Gillian, Abby. How's he doing?"  
  
Gillian shrugs. "Hard to say. He's still breathing. That's good. I think. He's in bad shape, Carter."  
  
"When did it happen?"  
  
"I found him yesterday. We're doing the best we can, but it's not good enough."  
  
I wiggle my hand away from Carter's and move to the side of his bed. I reach out and stroke his hair away from his face. "Luka, we're here. It's Abby. Carter and I are here. We're going to help you. You just hang in there. It's going to be all right, Luka. Everything is going to be just fine."  
  
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	9. Chapter 9

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 9  
  
I look at him, and I want to cry. He's in so much pain. It's etched in every line on his face. His head thrashes from side to side, his mouth twists in agony. And there's nothing anyone here can do for him.  
  
"What's he saying?" Carter asks Gillian. I know he's talking to Gillian and not me because he's looking at Gillian as if Gillian holds all the answers. I feel like I am not even here.  
  
The two of them lean in, practically forehead to forehead with their ears turned to Luka. His voice is nothing more than a whisper, but I can tell from where I am standing that he isn't making sense.  
  
"I don't know," Gillian says. "It's not French. I don't know what you're saying, baby." Baby? She did not just call him 'baby'. I don't need a signed confession to tell me they've been sleeping together, but really. 'Baby' is a little much. Luka is hardly the kind of man a woman would call 'baby'.  
  
"Croatian?" Carter suggests. Duh, Carter. Croatian is his native language.   
  
Gillian nods. Aren't they just the smartest people on the planet? "It sounds like a prayer." She reaches up to smooth his hair away from his face. She looks at him like she wants to kiss him. Like the prince and Sleeping Beauty.   
  
"Probably is," Carter agrees. If the situation wasn't so serious I would probably laugh. "He's dying, Gillian."  
  
"I know," she says softly and a single tear falls onto his cheek. She brushes it away then kisses that spot. Luka reaches up and grabs her wrist. The wide-eyed look she gives Carter tells me he has more strength than she expected. "What is it, Luka?"  
  
"Danijela," he says, and Gillian looks at him hopelessly. His words are a jumble of sounds to my ears, though I have heard him speak Croatian many times, I never learned any of it.   
  
"I'm sorry, Luka. I don't understand."  
  
"Can you use English?" Carter asks him.   
  
He opens his eyes briefly, but seems to have trouble focusing. "Danijela…the children…Jasna…Marko…"  
  
I can feel the tension thick as pudding. Gillian has no idea who Danijela is. Part of me wants to gloat, but I try to swallow it. I am not jealous. Why would I be? I'm in love with Carter. Luka and I didn't work out. He is a very dear friend, but I'm not in love with him. I am not jealous.  
  
Carter shakes his head and lays his hand against Luka's cheek. The tenderness of the gesture catches me off guard.   
  
"They're not here, Luka. They died in the war a long time ago."  
  
"No…" Luka shifts his eyes to Gillian. He says his wife's name again, and more Croatian I can't understand.   
  
"Carter, what is he talking about?" Gillian asks. "Who is Danijela?"  
  
Luka's hand falls away from Gillian and she moves it to rest next to his body. Carter covers her hand with his, holding it against Luka's arm. "Danijela was his wife. She and their two children were killed during the war in Croatia about twelve years ago."  
  
She looks…stunned. Her face is totally blank. She stares at Carter for a long moment then turns her eyes down to Luka. He's muttering again, the words that sound like a prayer or a chant or something.   
  
Carter moves his hand and Gillian reaches to take Luka's hand in hers. "He told me about fighting in Vukovar, and he said his family was killed. He didn't say it was his wife and children." She sounds like she's been betrayed.   
  
"We have to get him to a modern hospital," Carter says after a few tense minutes.  
  
Gillian looks up at him. "It's too dangerous."  
  
"We have to try. He's dying, Gillian. His leg is infected. Once it's in his blood, it will go to his heart. He'll die within a few days. We have to move him. We can't treat him here."  
  
She looks down and her lip trembles. I'm torn up inside. On one hand I want to punch her in the nose and tell her to get the hell away from Luka. On the other hand I think she really cares about him and what happens to him.   
  
"I'm pregnant."  
  
Carter sucks his breath in. I think my jaw must have hit the floor. I catch myself rubbing my stomach, remembering the night Carter came home from this horrible place, and the persistent thought that I should have made him use a condom.  
  
"How do you know?" Carter asks, his voice full of concern. "Have you taken a test?"  
  
She shakes her head. "I just know. I can tell."  
  
"How?"  
  
"A woman knows, Dr. Carter. I don't know how to explain it to you. It's something I feel."  
  
"And you're sure it's Luka's?"  
  
She nods. "He's the only one."  
  
Carter stares at her, then looks at Luka, and his eyes turn back to Gillian. Luka is still, his face slack, his body relaxed. Probably passed out from the pain. I wonder what he would say if he knew what Gillian was saying.  
  
"You didn't use protection?" Carter asks, and his words seem almost cruel. This is not the time or place for this discussion, but I just sit back and keep my mouth shut. I don't want to be a part of it.  
  
"What protection? Do you see anywhere around here to buy anything?"  
  
"Okay. I'm sorry," he says and I believe he is. I wonder what he would think if I said I think I might be pregnant too. But it's way too early to tell. Back home I could order a pregnancy test on myself.   
  
I can not believe how calm I am. I'm thinking about being pregnant and I am totally calm. How did that happen? I glance at Carter, and I know it's because of him. Because I love him. Because I trust him. Because I want to marry him and have his babies.   
  
"We have to get him out of here, Gillian."  
  
"I know," she whispers and leans in to kiss his cheek. "I know."  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Carter gets some guy named Patrique to help him move Luka into the medical van. The woman I met when Carter and I first arrived here is watching, and she doesn't look happy. She, like everyone else, thinks moving Luka is a bad idea.   
  
I'm standing by the wall outside with Gillian. I want to smoke, and I think she wants to smoke, but I don't say anything. I just shift my weight every few seconds and silently pray we're doing the right thing.  
  
Once Luka is settled, we pile into the van. Patrique is going to drive us to the capitol city, Kinshasa. Carter and Gillian sit in the back with Luka, I sit up front with Patrique. I am not thrilled about the situation, because I want to be close to Carter. But Carter needs to be with Luka in case anything happens, and Gillian won't be separated from Luka.  
  
It's a long and bumpy ride. At one point I look back and see Carter laying cross Luka to try to keep him stabilized. Gillian never lets go of Luka's hand.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
This chapter has been haunting me all day. I thought I would never get home to work on it. Use the review option and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading! 


	10. Chapter 10

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 10  
  
I'm exhausted by the time we get to the hospital in Kinshasa. The conditions here don't seem much better than Kisangani, but it will have to do.   
  
Patrique goes inside to get help. Carter climbs out of the van, Gillian refuses to leave Luka's side. Considering she's only known him a few weeks, her dedication to him almost makes me nauseous.   
  
But, my mind reasons, she is pregnant. And thinking that causes my hand to run over my stomach. What did she say back in Kisangani? 'A woman just knows, Dr. Carter.'   
  
I never wanted kids before. I always knew I would never have them, never risk passing on bipolar disorder, and Leukemia is a possibility from Carter's genes. But I look at him, at the fear and concern for Luka in his eyes, and I wonder how our love could cerate anything but the most perfect child.   
  
I imagine a little boy with dark hair and deep brown eyes just like his daddy. John Truman Carter IV is not even an option. My boy has to have his own name, like Tristan or Aidann or Xavier.   
  
Patrique returns with two men wearing scrubs. I really wish I had paid more attention during my French classes at school, but they talk so fast I probably wouldn't understand them anyway.   
  
Carter helps Gillian out of the van, and she's right there, chattering away in French. Maybe it's not such a bad idea to have her along. At least she can translate.  
  
Luka looks pale, especially out here in the sun. His cheeks are sunken in a bit. He's probably lost ten or fifteen pounds, and a lot of blood too.  
  
Patrique and the two men take Luka inside. Gillian stops Carter and me from following. "They said wait out here so they know where to find us."  
  
"I want to go with him," Carter says. It's touching to see him so concerned about Luka after so many months of them swiftly avoiding each other. There was a time I really thought the two of them would meet behind the hospital for a school-yard brawl.  
  
"So do I," Gillian says. She sounds like she's about to cry. Carter puts his arms around her, and I feel that unwelcome pang of jealousy again. I turn away and dig my toe into the dirt.  
  
Right now seems like as good a time as any to pray.  
  
I pace a small space close to the wall. 'Dear God, it's Abby. I know I don't pray as often as I should, or really very much at all. But I'm here now, and I hope you are listening. I need your help. Not me, my friend. Luka. He's been hurt, and it's not even his fault. He came here to help people and it's not fair that he's the one who really needs your help now. He's been shot and he could die. I'm a nurse, I can tell it's bad just by looking at him. But he's a good man, Luka is, and he doesn't deserve to die.' I stop moving and look up at the sky. 'Tell Danijela and the kids they can wait a little longer to see him again. Please. I'm begging. Please help Luka get better and I'll even try to be nice to Gillian.'   
  
"Abby?"  
  
I look at Carter and smile. He and Gillian have their arms around each other and I don't even care. It doesn't bother me because I know it doesn't mean anything except they are both worried about Luka. Carter loves me, and Gillian loves Luka. That's what matters now.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
I judge the time by the sun as it moves to the west. I figure it's been about three hours, maybe four, since Patrique took Luka inside. The heat and the stench have become almost unbearable as Carter, Gillian, and I sit together against the wall.  
  
Carter nudges me suddenly. I look up to see Patrique walking toward us. We all stand, and Carter steps forward.  
  
"You can see him now." His voice is weary. As tired as I feel, he must be feeling it ten times worse.  
  
Gillian says something in French, Patrique answers in French. Carter squeezes my hand. He doesn't understand French either.  
  
We walk through a large, over crowded room. Most of the people don't have shoes or shirts. The whole place smells like sweat and decay, and it's worse than the stench outside. I have to pinch my nose to keep from being sick.  
  
Upstairs where Luka is the smell isn't so bad. Not good by any means, but not nearly as bad as what we came through.  
  
Gillian squeaks when she sees him, and rushes to his side. He looks a little better than before, at least he's not so pale. They must have given him blood and he's on an IV drip. The heart monitor looks like it's from the dinosaur age, but it shows a strong, steady heart beat.  
  
Gillian takes his hand in hers and leans over to kiss his lips. "We're here, baby. Carter and Abby and me. We're all here. And you're going to be just fine." She runs her fingers through his hair.  
  
Carter has pulled Patrique aside. I can hear the hushed murmur of their voices, but not the words. I try to listen, but I don't want to be obvious. I can't hear enough to make sense of anything.  
  
I put my hand on Luka's leg. "Hey, Luka," I say softly.   
  
Gillian's hand on mine startles me, but after the initial shock, it feels good. It feels right. I look at her and I'm not surprised she's crying. I feel tears push at my eyes too, and I don't even try to hold them back.  
  
Lukas. The name seems to drift on the air. I'm going to name my baby Lukas.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Please take the time to send me a review for this chapter. I'm resorting to begging again. I'm begging, I'm pleading, I'm graveling at your feet. Please review me. Thanks so much for reading… 


	11. Chapter 11

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 11  
  
I think we all know Luka will get worse before he gets better. The first few hours in Kinshasa are the hardest. All we can do is sit with him and wait. We take shifts, making sure someone is always awake and talking to him.   
  
It's not easy. I see the weariness in Carter's eyes. I never would have thought he would be first in line to keep vigil over Luka's bedside. I try not to think about it too much, but I really wonder what happened between them here in Africa. I imagine having guns trained on your heads can create a bond between two people, but it seems like there had to be more for these two in particular, for Carter to be this…I don't know…Involved I guess is the word. They have had such a tumultuous past together…and a lot of the friction was because of me…  
  
The three of us have a tumultuous past together. I guess it started the day I caught Carter shooting fentinol into his wrist at work. He ended up in a drug treatment program in Atlanta, and when he came back he asked me to be his AA sponsor. I never should have accepted, but I did, probably because some part of me felt guilty about ratting him out.  
  
I think Carter expected more out of the relationship, but then I started dating Luka. That's a whole other crazy story. We were attacked on our first date, and Luka ended up killing the guy who mugged us. He wasn't charged for it or anything, but what a way to start a relationship…  
  
Every moment I was with Luka felt like an uphill battle. In the beginning he was obsessed with the mugger, and I know it still bothers him that we never found out who the guy was or where he came from. Then he treated a Bishop who more or less forced Luka to talk about losing his wife and children during the war in Croatia. I have trouble believing Luka could, and should, have a 16 year old daughter and a 14 year old son.  
  
But then, I should have a five year old child.   
  
I look at Carter and wonder how many would-be children he could have. And who knows for sure that he doesn't have any out there somewhere? From what I understand hew as quite the Romeo before I came along.  
  
But I didn't rush right into Carter's arms when Luka and I broke up. By then he was dating Susan Lewis, and I wasn't sure I wanted to date anyone anyway. Then I got beat up by my neighbor, and I ended up staying with Luka until I felt safe going back to my apartment. Even though he was dating Susan, I know the fact I stayed with Luka drove Carter up a wall.  
  
It took a lockdown at the hospital to get us together. We had treated two little kids with a rash…The health department closed us down for two weeks to try to prevent spreading the disease. Since Carter and I treated the kids, we were quarantined, together.   
  
I thought he had a fever, so I put a cold pack on his neck. I didn't want him to know how scared I was, but I asked him tot ell me we were going to be okay. He looked at me for a moment, and I thought he was going to say he didn't know or something like that, but then he kissed me.   
  
I have never felt anything that compared tot hat first kiss. Maybe it was the conditions, the fact I was scared out of my mind and afraid of getting small pox. Whatever it was, that kiss was amazing. I don't think words could ever do it justice.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
It's my turn to sit with Luka. Carter and Gillian are asleep sitting up against the wall. Gillian's head is on Carter's shoulder, Carter's head is resting on hers. Good thing I made peace with them being so close, a scene like that might rile me otherwise, but now it doesn't bother me.  
  
"Hey, Luka." I take his hand in mine and bring it up to kiss his knuckles. I never understood why people do that in movies and on TV, but right now it's just something to do. I rub my chin back and forth across his hand.   
  
I haven't said anything for a few minutes when I notice his eyes are open. His mouth twitches like he wants to smile. I instinctively move my fingers to his wrist and check his pulse.   
  
He whispers 'Danijela' and I get a tingly feeling that spreads through every nerve ending in my body. The way he's looking at me, he thinks I'm Danijela.  
  
He says something in Croatian. I just shake my head at him. I'm afraid if I tell him I'm not Danijela he might get agitated and upset and I can't risk that. He needs to stay calm, he needs to lie still.  
  
The Croatian is a concern, though. I don't understand it. Not a word. All those months I was with him, I never learned a single word.   
  
"Luka, I need you to speak English, okay? Can you speak English for me?"  
  
His eyes close, and my body tenses. Please God, don't let him get upset. After a moment, his eyes open. "Are the children safe?"  
  
I feel my hand move to my stomach. I nod. "Everything is fine, Luka."  
  
His eyes close again, and his head turns to the side. "I am so tired."  
  
I reach up to stroke his hair. "You need to rest. Go to sleep, I'll stay right here." I kiss his cheek. He doesn't move, so I know he's asleep already.   
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Please use the review option to leave me your thoughts. As always, I am begging shamelessly for feedback. I can't help it…I crave it. If you write, you know what I'm talking about. Just do it, please. Pretty please? Thanks so much for reading! 


	12. Chapter 12

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
Chapter 12  
  
"You should get some rest," Carter says. His hand feels like white heat on my shoulder. I look up at him. His hair is a mess, his beard is starting to show. He looks like hell, and I know if he looks that bad I must look ten times worse.  
  
He's right. I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. But I shake my head. "I want to sit here and hold his hand."  
  
"I can hold his hand as well as you can."  
  
I look down and sigh, then look back up to meet Carter's eyes. "He thinks I'm Danijela."  
  
"He's been shot, he's in a lot of pain and he's on a lot of medication. He's not thinking straight."  
  
"That's why I have to stay here. Right here. When he wakes up, he will expect me to be here."  
  
The nerve in his cheek twitches, but he only sighs and goes to sit on the other side of the bed. I reach across with my free hand and clasp his. He smiles at me, and I think about leaning over Luka to kiss him, but I won't do that. That would just be…wrong.  
  
But that doesn't mean I can't think about it. I close my eyes and lick my lips, imagining him there. I feel my hands in his hair and his in mine. I feel his heart beating against my chest, but it isn't real. I open my eyes and he's looking at me with his head cocked to one side.  
  
"What?" I say, trying to appear innocent.  
  
"What?" he mimics me. I roll my eyes at him. "Penny for your thoughts," he grins. I feel my cheeks flush. Damn him and that irresistible grin of his. I look down at Luka's hand in mine.  
  
"That good?" Carter asks.  
  
I look up at him and smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"  
  
He just shakes his head. I lick my lips again, this time for his benefit, and tilt my head slightly to try to look sexy.   
  
"You're cruel."  
  
"I can't believe we're having this discussion in a hospital. In Africa."  
  
He throws his arms up. "You started it."  
  
"You instigated it!"  
  
"Me? How?" He makes his eyes wide with innocence.  
  
I snort and shake my head at him. "If you don't know by now…Why should I tell you?"  
  
Luka stirs, putting a stop to the highly charged banter between Carter and me. Both of us turn our attention to Luka. Unfortunately he wants to talk in Croatian and neither of us can understand anything he says, except Danijela's name. I catch Jasna and Marko too, but Carter and I can only glance at each other helplessly.  
  
"Luka," Carter says finally and leans in closer to Luka. "It's John Carter. Do you know where you are?"  
  
Luka's eyes open briefly and his head moves slightly from side to side. "Hospital," he says.  
  
"Do you remember what happened?"  
  
Luka looks at me. "Danijela…"  
  
"That's Abby. Do you remember Abby?"  
  
His eyes close. He looks distressed. I stroke the back of his hand with my thumb. "Hey. It's okay. I'm right here."  
  
"Danijela…"  
  
I glance at Carter. He shakes his head. I turn back to Luka. "No, Luka. Danijela isn't here. She…"  
  
"She died a long time ago," Carter says. Luka turns toward his voice and opens his eyes for only a few seconds. Carter continues, "During the war in Vukovar. You're in Africa now. Do you remember? We were working with the World Medical Group. I went back to Chicago and you stayed. You got shot, Luka. Abby and I came back to get you and take you home. You were hurt very badly and it wasn't safe to put you on a plane. So we're still in Africa. But I'm going to take you home soon, okay?"  
  
Luka looks at me, and I feel like he wants me to tell him what Carter says isn't true. I just smile at him and hope he's comforted by that. I reach up to stroke his hair. The corners of his mouth relax, and he slips into sleep quickly.  
  
I look at Carter and I want to throw him down, right there on the floor and have my way with him. My hormones feel all out of whack. Being this close to him without touching him is killing me. We need to find a way to have some alone time…before I go insane…  
  
"What?" he says innocently, but the glint in his eye is anything but innocent.  
  
I shrug. "I'm just thinking."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"I'm not telling."  
  
"Awww, come on."  
  
I shake my head. "You are impossible."  
  
"We need a hotel room."  
  
"Carter!" I yelp.  
  
He laughs. "I know that's what you're thinking too."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I can tell." He grins that silly grin again and I just want to melt into his arms and pretend none of this other stuff is going on. But Luka is still laying here fighting for his life on the bed between us, and Gillian is still asleep in the corner behind me and we are still in Africa…and Luka's condition is still too precarious to even think of taking him home or leaving him for a moment…  
  
"I wish…"  
  
"So do I," he says and reaches for my hand to squeeze it. "I'm going to go see if I can arrange something."  
  
"Carter…"  
  
He walks around the bed to stand next to me. "Gillian will be with him, Abby. We won't leave him alone."  
  
"I know…"  
  
"The truth is I'm going crazy here." He brings his hand up to caress my jaw. "I want you so bad I can't stand it another minute. So I'm going to go find us a hotel room and we're going to spend the night in a real bed, in each others arms. Okay?"  
  
I nod and my hair falls in my face. He pushes it away and hooks it behind my ears. He gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek. I feel tears fill my eyes, but I blink them back and hope he doesn't notice.  
  
"Are you okay with this, Abby? Because if you're not…I won't do it."  
  
I shake my head. "I want to. I just…"  
  
"Don't want to leave him, I know. But he's doing better now. And Gillian will stay with him."  
  
I nod. "I love you, John Carter."  
  
"I love you too, Abigail Lockhart." He grazes my lips ever so lightly then turns away. I watch him go before turning back to Luka.   
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Tell me what you think. Feedback is like oxygen to the fire…I crave it, I need it…so give me some! Please! Thanks for reading! 


	13. Chapter 13

Coming Home  
  
An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa  
  
A/N: I apologise for the time between chapters…Hopefully that won't happen again…And now (drum roll please) on with the story…  
  
Chapter 13  
  
Carter holds my hand the whole time we're checking in. The desk clerk keeps giving me an eye, like she thinks he's hot. I just wink at her and wait patiently for him to finish the paperwork so we can get upstairs.  
  
She gives us the honeymoon suite since it's empty for the night. I think it's probably bigger than my apartment in Chicago. And beautifully decorated. Not that I have time to notice, he's kissing me even as he's locking the door.  
  
Clothes are shed unceremoniously between the main door and the bedroom. I barely remember moving across the floor, and suddenly I'm on my back on the bed.   
  
He looks into my eyes for just a moment, just long enough to make that deep soul connection that chills me to the bone when I think of it later. Sometimes, thinking back, I feel like he can see right into my soul.   
  
I could say something about condoms right now, but I think it's too late, and I don't want to spoil the mood. Obviously he isn't thinking about protection, and unless he has one in his wallet, it's a moot point anyway.  
  
His eyes close as his head comes in to mine, and our lips meet in a soft, warm kiss. His hands slide under my body, his fingers drag a line from my lower back to my bra. I arch my back to make unhooking the stupid thing a little easier for him.  
  
He drags his finger tips down my arms, pulling the bra at the same time and tossing it aside. His kisses move from my mouth to my chin, my neck, and to each breast. I feel my nipples harden in response even before he takes one in his mouth.  
  
My hands are in his hair, lazily playing there while his hands travel over my body. His touch is gentle as butterfly wings, but focused and deliberate. He reaches the sensitive spot between my legs and I moan softly, my hands fall way from his head.  
  
"You're so beautiful," he says, or I imagine he says it. His mouth moves to continue his ministrations on the other breast, and his hand continues its explorations. I feel the heat rising in me, breaking like waves over every inch of my body.  
  
Just when I think I'm going to die from it, he comes back up to kiss my lips, and I feel him shift his body over mine. He pushes into me slowly, filling me, claiming me. I surrender completely to him, taking him deep, becoming him. The world slips away, my mind swirls with the beauty of the connection between us. He isn't just looking into my soul, he's filling it, becoming part of it, of me.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I have to go to the bathroom, but I don't want to move and disturb him. He looks so peaceful in sleep. His features are relaxed, for the first time in a long time. He looks like a little boy. A beautiful, perfect little boy. I could lay here and just look at him forever.  
  
Before long, his eyes are open, and he smiles. I smile and he strains his neck up to kiss me. He bears his weight against me, pushing me onto my back. I can feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and instinctively shift my legs to encourage him.  
  
He raises his head and looks into my eyes. I nod. "Are you sure? We don't have any...protection."  
  
I stop myself before I remind him we didn't have any protection last night, or the last time we made love, back in Chicago. "I don't think it matters."  
  
"What do you mean? Are you…" His eyes soften and shift to my stomach.  
  
"I think so."  
  
"How…"  
  
"The night you came home."  
  
His hands are on either side of my face, his eyes have come back to mine. There's that soul-connection again, like a live wire of white hot electricity between us. It defies words, transcends conscious understanding. It seems impossible now to think how distant I felt from him only days ago. Feels like a lifetime since he came home from Africa.  
  
"You're going to have a baby? My baby?" He says in a deep, whispery voice thick with raw emotion. "You're going to have my baby?"  
  
I bring one hand up to rest against his cheek. His skin is warm and I can feel the nerves twitching just under the surface. "I didn't have time to make sure, but I know it. I feel it. Gillian was right when she said it's something a woman just knows."  
  
"Wow…" His eyes close briefly and I want to know what's running through his mind. What is he thinking? How does he feel, really, about the prospect of being a father? I'm scared to death at the thought of being a mother. I never thought I would be a mother, I never *wanted* to be a mother.  
  
"Carter?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
I smile and move my hand to the back of his head, pulling him down and into a kiss.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Please R&R, it means so much. It feels good to be back, reuniting with my Carters and Abbys and Lukas…and I want to know what you guys think, so take a couple seconds to drop me a line. Thanks! 


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